Thank You
by XFoxMuldersGirlX
Summary: Hannibal writes a letter to Jack Crawford about a certain FBI agent. Honestly the letter IS better than the summary :0  P.S the starling I based this on is Julianne Moore. Enjoy!


Disclaimer: I own nothing :0( (only what happens to be in my imagination) All characters belong to Thomas Harris.

Thank You

Well. I suppose I _should_ display the general niceties that one does when one is letter writing, and call you "my friend" but seeing as I don't like you and you are not my friend, I wont patronise you with unwelcome civilities.

There _is_ a reason for me to be writing you this letter . I wouldn't be wasting my time on you otherwise.

The reason? well, you know it. Or should I say you know her.

Yes… _her_.

I am writing to warn you that it is just a matter of time. Of waiting and patience. You know I am very good at waiting. I have nothing but time. I've waited for eight years…I can continue to wait still.

Unfortunately, you can not can you?

The waiting is killing you…

You see, I've seen the way she reacts to your name. The adoration, the doe eyes and the girlish smile that plays on her lips… She isn't in love with you. You're just a father figure to her and nothing more.

But what kind of father likes to think the things you do about your "daughter"?

Those sensual, erotic, incestuous thoughts that involve pale legs wrapping themselves around your waist? And long coppery hair that falls in rivers of crimson over bare ivory skin? Of slim fingers that work magic?

Do you dream of those soft rose coloured lips? And imagine how they feel against your skin? Deny it if you can. Though not many would believe you. It is knowledge enough.

You see the fire and ice that dances in those eyes. You want it to engulf you. To be swallowed by her flames, to give yourself completely to the ice princess.

You are not strong enough to withstand the crimson tongues of her passion. It will make you crumble to the ground. You have noble ideals but a weak and feeble mind.

You, who think you know her… but you don't. You never did.

Oh, but I do. I know her more intimately than you can ever dream. I can see into the very depths of her soul.

How does this knowledge make you feel? Knowing that I can make her react to me, make her feel all the emotions you want to bestow on her, with a single look or a word? Knowing that I know your deepest feelings for a girl who you see as one of your own?

Does your wife know you lust after a girl half your age? No… I suppose she doesn't.

Do you dream of her while making love to your wife? Yes … I should imagine you do. You hear _her_ calling your name as your wife is in raptures.

I should imagine you are wanting to shred this letter into a thousand pieces, want to screw it up or burn it. You want to but you can't. You have to keep reading, though anger, shame and denial are threatening to over flow and you are hating the words you read. Hating the truth.

Why do people hate knowing the truth?

Truth.

It shatters the dream, leaving the bitter taste of reality in its wake. I, myself, have no qualms about the truth. I rather enjoy it.

But enough of this…

I don't want to talk about you anymore, as quite frankly, you bore me.

You don't hold my interest like that little girl does. That girl with her down home country roots, despite her best efforts to disguise them. With her fierce loyalty. With her, unfortunate, loyalty to you. Her cheap shoes and L'Air du Temps fragrance.

Hmmm, I wonder if she tastes as good as she smells….

Before you go running to her with all the good intentions of being her white knight , I'm not going to go after her…. I don't need to. She'll come to me. She won't be able to help herself.

Is it just a morbid curiosity…to be near a killer? Or is it something more? Something dark and dangerous? As I do, she knows the answer, but she doesn't dare utter it out loud.. Preferring to ignore the truth and pretend that she has no control, that her actions and feelings are the result of others. That she is a pawn used by the stars and the Angels of the Cosmos, in their games .

That little country daisy-may, in the privacy of her bedroom, dreams dreams so real, yet so _un_-real, so vivid and yet so dark. In those dreams, she does things that she never thought herself capable of. Never admitting to any of it, in the daylight hours that follow, not even to herself.

None of those dreams involve you…How do I know? I see her. I see every movement she makes while she is sleeping, every smile on her lips. I know when she surrenders to herself and gives herself up to what she would never admit…

I know of what she dreams. Of strong arms and skilled hands…of Fire and Ice.

Believe this or don't…I can hardly bring myself to care either way, but you should know it…I wont touch her… not until she wants me to.

You should believe it. Though you won't admit it to yourself.

You know it to be true.

She does want me…

Well, I must be going now… I have a redhead to prepare for…

Oh! And just one more thing:

Thank you.

Thank you for sending her to me. Though I doubt you expected _this_ ending to ever come from out first meeting did you?

Ta Ta

H

The End


End file.
